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Anathema

Immured within repetition.
Blood-thirsty for the competition.
Altered strategic positions.
Still without acquisition.


I won’t capitulate,
However, mortality reminds me,
That at this rate,
My failures may be my fate.


Which stones are unturned?
Which bridges shouldn’t I have burned?
Which lessons have I not learned?
Where to strengthen my search?


So many questions, so many dilemmas.
So close, yet so far away.
Was I meant to be treated as an anathema?
So much left on the agenda…


But such mind-shattering evisceration,
Can’t much longer, be tolerated.
Such stains on my soul stretched, starved and separated.
Suffering such saturnine states of sullen segregation.


Will nothing but death acquiesce?
Written by Chaoticwayz
Published
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